


Deadly Reflection

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Gen, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Kathy Hintze</p>
<p>Vila must thwart the schemes of his own evil twin, who is now working for Servalan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadly Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> **Original Author's Notes:**
> 
> Previously published in 'Anglo File' (multimedia, 1985). 
> 
> Also previously archived at Hammer to Fall.

Vila groaned and rolled over, right off the edge of the cell cot. He landed with a dull thud on the floor, much to someone's amusement.

"What's so funny?" Vila moaned, opening his eyes. They bulged in shock as he identified the culprit.

"You look surprised to see me, Vila," the man replied. A man who was the perfect mirror image of Vila.

"Surprised is hardly the word, Miles," Vila commented slowly, getting back up onto the cot. The thief brushed the hair back out of his eyes and winced. Gingerly, he felt the back of his head. Sure enough, his fingers encountered a rather sizeable lump. And that was not the only thing he noticed. While he was unconscious, someone had removed his clothes. The thief was now wearing standard Federation prison garb.

"That's right," Miles advised him. "You were slugged." He looked disgustedly at Vila. "You certainly have gotten sloppy, letting them take you that easily. Not like the old days."

"These are not the old days," Vila retorted irritably. "Now, brother dear, what is it you really want?" He gazed around the cell and spotted the camera immediately. "Or should I say what is it you want, Madame President?"

Miles frowned. His brother had not quite become the fool he'd been led to believe. "From you, Vila, we want nothing. You've already given us what we want."

"We? You've taken on a partner then?" Vila queried curiously, thinking back. The Liberator had received a message from Melvyrn's underground. From what they could make of it, the local planetary base was being used for one of Servalan's pet projects and Avon liked nothing better than destroying them. So he had sent Tarrant down to the planet to meet with the rebellion leader and secure information on the base. Vila went with him to take a look at a mock-up of the special security vault housing Servalan's new plaything. But their contact had been late and Tarrant had elected, despite orders to the contrary, to go looking for him with Vila remaining at the rendezvous point in case the man showed. What about Tarrant? Vila wondered suddenly. Had they captured him too?

"I mean my employer," Miles continued. "The Federation has been waiting for a chance to catch you and your companions. And now you've provided them with one: an excellent one.

"It's been tried before," Vila advised him. He closed his eyes momentarily as a stab of pain swept through his head. When he re-opened them, Miles was sitting beside him.

"It's been tried before." Miles imitated his voice perfectly; so perfectly that Vila blinked.

"So that's it! That's the reason for taking my clothes and all this," Vila exclaimed. "You mean to take my place and...."

"Capture your friends and take control of the Liberator," Miles finished for him with a wicked smile.

"And you think I'm dumb!" Vila told him. "Avon will know the minute you come on board. You don't know the layout of the ship, where to go, anything." The thief didn't mention the fact that Zen would also know he was an imposter. Everyone's voice pattern had been registered with the computer as a precaution against such things. The first time Miles tried anything, Zen would alert the others. But Vila saw no reason to give that information to Servalan.

"You forget, dear brother, we're identical. In every way. I think I know you well enough that for the short period of time necessary, not even you would know the difference. As for finding my way around, I'll just stick close to your friends."

"Miles, you're crazy," Vila warned him.

"Hardly," his brother countered, standing up. "I can walk out of here free and easy. While you...." Miles gave him a pitying look. "You really should have taken up a more honorable profession, Vila. Thievery is so...so petty."

"And being an assassin is such a grand thing?" Vila challenged. "You actually enjoy murdering people, don't you, Miles? No matter what the reason, you've always enjoyed killing."

"Killing is such an ugly word, Vila," Miles replied with a smile. "I prefer 'elimination.' It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He glanced up and noticed that a small light was flashing beneath the camera. He gave a brief nod and the blinking ceased. "Now I have to run along, Vila. It would not do to keep your friend, Tarrant, waiting." He walked to the door, stopped and turned around, a sudden cold, menacing look on his face which sent a shiver down Vila's spine. "I will see you later, brother," Miles advised, then left the room.

"Not if I can help it," Vila muttered softly to himself and tried to think of a way to get out of the cell and warn the others.

#

"Vila, where the hell have you been?" Tarrant exclaimed angrily, stepping from behind a large tree and grabbing the other man by the arm as he walked past.

Miles, with his honed instincts, had sensed Tarrant's presence and knew exactly how to react. He flinched. "When you didn't come back, I went looking," the bogus thief stammered in reply. "I thought you'd been caught."

"Never mind," Tarrant snapped. "Avon's furious." He activated his bracelet. "All right, Dayna, I found him. Bring us up."

From her hiding place a short distance off, Servalan smiled. Shortly Avon and his band of malcontents would be eliminated and the fastest starship in the Universe would be hers to command. The Presidency was already in her grasp. Presidency? Such a masculine sounding title. Why not Empress? That sounded better. Soon, she would be Empress Servalan I, ruler of the Universe. Provided, she cautioned herself, that Miles was able to pull off his masquerade.

She laughed quietly and walked back to her waiting vehicle.

#

Vila stood in the center of the flight deck, his head down, by all appearances bearing up as best as he could with the torrent of angry remarks being flung at him by Avon. When the computer expert had finished, Miles retired to a nearby couch to bide his time.

'Why does that fool Vila put up with such a man?' the assassin wondered, staring down at his hands. 'The first time Avon said something like that to me, I would have killed him. Then again,' Miles reminded himself, 'Vila has always been a coward, even as a child.'

"Vila, are you all right?" The voice was soft and gentle. Miles looked up and saw a dark-haired woman standing in front of him. He identified her from his Federation briefing as the alien known as Cally.

"Yes," he sighed, returning his eyes to his hands.

Vila certainly did not look all right to Cally. She sat down next to him and put an arm about his shoulders in comfort. He tensed ever so slightly and Cally wondered at it. Did he think she would hurt him?

"Avon did not mean what he said," she soothed. "You know how he is."

"I sometimes wonder," Miles replied, hoping it was the right thing to say.

It was, for now Cally sighed. "We've contacted the underground and they've set up another meeting." She hugged him again, this time he seemed to relax. "Avon will need you to get into the base, Vila."

"I know," the imposter murmured. "I know."

#

The meeting with the underground went off without a flaw and the necessary information on the complex was delivered safely into Avon's hands. He and Tarrant went down this time, insuring there would be no more fiascos such as before.

"Orac has set the co-ordinates to teleport us down within a short distance of our objective. From all available data, the base has only a small security force on duty," Avon explained. "Servalan apparently does not want to attract too much attention to it and that makes me wonder why."

"Who else is going down besides you and Vila?" Dayna inquired.

"Why?" Avon asked, curiously. "Are you volunteering?"

Dayna smiled. "I had ship watch last time, remember? I'd appreciate some action for a change."

Avon nodded with a slight smile crossing his lips. "This time, we all go."

"All of us? Tarrant was plainly surprised. "That's a bit of a risk, isn't it"?"

Avon looked at him challengingly. "What's the matter, Tarrant? I thought you were tired of running and wanted a little action?"

"That's not the point, and you know it, Avon," Tarrant snapped back. "We need someone up here to run the teleport in case there's trouble."

"We have someone up here as you put it," Avon countered. "Orac is a good deal more reliable that a human being." He glanced at Cally and knew there would be no argument from her. His eyes traveled on to Vila. "Any more complaints?" he asked, waiting for Vila's usual outburst.

Only there wasn't any. Instead, Vila got to his feet and said, "All right, let's get this over with."

The others glanced at him strangely, then headed for the teleport. And Miles felt a little uneasy. Had he betrayed himself somehow?

//Vila.// A voice suddenly spoke in Miles' mind and he jumped. //Vila, are you sure you're all right?//

"I'm fine, Cally," Miles answered. He'd forgotten she was telepathic. "I just want to get this over with and get out of here."

She smiled reassuringly. That sounded more like Vila. //Don't worry. Everything will soon be all right.//

#

Orac's teleport coordinates deposited them in a dimly lit storeroom just off the main corridor, a scant 50 feet from their objective.

"Vila, get the door open," Avon whispered. The imposter nodded and moved to obey. The door was not locked, but Miles pretended it was. Even if it had been locked, he could have opened it. There were many things an assassin had to learn in his profession, opening locked doors not the least among them.

"It's open, Avon," he whispered and stepped back into the shadows, drawing his weapon as he did so.

"Then let's get going," Tarrant said and opened the door. He stepped out right in line for a trooper's stun gun and dropped without a sound to the floor. Dayna yelled a warning and tried to drag the pilot back inside; then she was felled from behind. Avon whirled, his gun in hand, and saw Cally sliding limply to the floor.

"Avon?"

He turned in response to his name just in time to see Vila smile coldly and fire.

#

"You see, Madame President, I have delivered them as I promised I would," Miles remarked with a smile.

"Indeed you have, Miles," Servalan purred and gestured for him to be seated. "And alive as well. Quite an admirable feat."

"Thank you, Madame President." He sat down and poured himself a drink. "What are your plans for them now?" Miles queried curiously.

"I should think that obvious. They will be taken back to Earth and executed for treason."

"Oh." The assassin studied the contents of his glass.

"There is some problem?" Servalan inquired of him. "Are you seeking a favour for your brother?"

Miles shook his head. "My brother is a thief, Madame President, and a traitor to the Federation. I will ask no favors for him."

Servalan was puzzled. "Then what?"

"The man Avon," the assassin said slowly. "I should like to kill him."

The President sighed. "That, I'm afraid, is out of the question. Avon is far too valuable to me alive. He has information that I need."

"I see." Miles sipped his drink. "And afterwards?"

She regarded him for a moment. "Afterwards, perhaps."

"Madame President?" her aide's voice called from the desk communicator.

"Yes, what is it?"

"The prisoner is here."

"Very good. Bring him in."

The scene which presented itself to Avon was not totally unexpected. He had come to remembering the look on Vila's face as he pulled the trigger. That almost insane look of triumph. Now Vila was seated next to Servalan, enjoying a glass of wine, smiling wickedly as the computer expert entered.

Avon's own appearance was something less than admirable. The storeroom had not been cleaned for several months and his dark clothing was smudged here and there with dirt and oil.

"Avon," Miles began in feigned concern. "You do look a sight." He turned to Servalan and added, "Doesn't he, Madame President?"

"Yes, he does look a bit ruffled, Vila," Servalan answered, her voice lingering on Vila's name. Miles caught her meaning and nodded slightly. "Please, Avon, have a seat." She gestured to the chair across from them and Avon accepted. The guard who had escorted him there remained at attention by the door.

"Now what?" Avon inquired, his manner nonchalant despite the fact his mind was swirling with anger and confusion.

The calmness of his response was not unexpected by Servalan. "You see, Vila," the woman purred. "I told you Avon would not let this little betrayal disturb him."

"Oh, he's angry, Madame President. Very angry, by the way his eyes are flashing." Miles studied Avon a moment. "And he has a question, I think."

"How very astute of you, Vila," Avon commented in an even voice. "I do have a question: why?"

"Why?" Miles repeated. Then he laughed. "Can't you guess?"

"I do not believe that Servalan offered you amnesty and you were foolish enough to accept it. No, you're not that much of a fool," Avon told him. "There had to be something else. Something much more concrete and secure. What?" He leaned forward and poured himself a glass of wine.

Servalan smiled. "There was something else, Avon. I not only offered him amnesty, but also a guaranteed place of safety. Something he would never have with you."

Avon studied Vila carefully. There was something wrong, but he could not put his finger on it. Had Vila been captured and conditioned?

No. Vila had always maintained he was unconditionable. Then what was it?

What had made Vila turn against him and the others?

"Are you offering me the same thing?" Avon asked politely as he took a sip of the wine.

"No, she is not," Miles answered. "However, I might be able in my humble capacity to offer you a less painful means of death if you decide to co-operate."

Avon took another sip of wine, then set his glass of wine back on the table. "Wine such as this should not be wasted on Deltas, Servalan," he said, smiling at her and pointedly ignoring Miles. "They have no appreciation of it."

Miles flew to his feet in a rage and struck Avon hard across the face. "You shall regret that, Avon," the assassin cracked. "When the interrogators are through with you, you'll wish you had taken my offer."

Avon, mindful of the guard standing by the door, slowly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his hand and said, "We shall see, Vila. We shall see."

"I think this interview is over," Servalan interrupted, flaring at Miles and standing up. She motioned to the guard. "Return him to his cell."

"Yes, Madame President."

"I think I'll go along and check on the others," Miles announced with a strange look in his eyes.

Servalan caught his arm and drew him back. "Remember this, Miles," she warned in a soft, yet dangerous tone. "Avon has information I want and I do not want him injured or harmed...in any way. Do you understand?"

He caught the warning in her voice and nodded. "I understand all too well, Madame President."

The guard led the way out with Miles bringing up the rear, his gun pointed directly at Avon's back.

"I imagine the others are awake by now?" Miles said conversationally as the trio walked down a deserted corridor. "But I doubt if you'll get to see them." He gestured at the space around them. "This section of the base is still largely unoccupied as you can see. Servalan planned it that way. When her interrogators arrive, they'll have all the space and privacy they require in order to work on you. I look forward to that, Avon, watching you squirm under their hands. I look forward to that immensely."

"You seem to know a lot about her plans, Vila. How is that?" Avon asked.

"I've been planning this a long time, Avon," Miles replied. "A very long time.

"Obviously," Avon observed than went silent, his mind concentrating on finding some way to escape and free the others.

And then Fate smiled upon him. As they rounded a corner, a Federation Security Officer quietly came up behind Miles and tapped him on the shoulder.

The assassin whirled around, instinctively striking out. At the same time, Avon attacked the guard in front of him, delivering a death blow to the neck.

He grabbed the guard's weapon and spun about. Miles was just turning, gun in hand when Avon fired, catching the assassin square in the chest.

Miles dropped to his knees, stared at Avon in surprise, then fell face forward to the floor. Avon glanced up and down the corridor but no alarm had been raised. He left the bodies lying where they had fallen and made his way quickly back to Servalan's office.

#

The door to the outer office slid open but no one came in, so her aide went to investigate. There was a grunt and Avon entered, dragging the young man's limp body inside. Then he calmly walked into Servalan's office.

Madame President's back was turned as she viewed the latest news from Earth on her visi-screen. "That's old news, Servalan," Avon's voice cracked. She spun her chair around to find the gun in Avon's hand inches from her head.

Her surprise was quickly hidden. "So you've escaped," she said unnecessarily. "What do you want?"

"I should think it obvious," he replied coolly. "First, you will furnish me with our teleport bracelets. Then you will take me to where the others are being held."

"And if I do not?" Servalan inquired.

"It could become quite unpleasant for you," Avon threatened.

She shrugged and stood up. "Very well."

#

The door to the cell slid open and Servalan, pushed roughly from behind, staggered in followed closely by Avon who narrowly missed getting his skull split open by a piece of metal held by Dayna.

"I see," he commented wryly, looking at Dayna, "that you were already prepared to escape."

"Something you seem to have accomplished," Tarrant answered. "Where's Vila?"

"Dead," Avon said simply. "Unless you want to join him, I suggest you put these on." He handed out the teleport bracelets Servalan had taken from the sentry's desk down the hall, then activated his own.

"All right, Orac, bring us up."

They waited. Nothing happened.

"We're shielded here, Avon," Servalan announced with a smile. "You can't escape. You might as well give up."

"I think not," he told her coldly. Avon looked at Tarrant. "Check the hall."

The pilot stepped past them and opened it cautiously. There was no one in sight. "All clear," he called.

"Now, Madame President," Avon ordered, and grabbed her arm. "You will escort us outside the base."

"And then what?" she challenged. "You'll kill me?"

"Perhaps," Avon returned in a tight voice. "Now move." He pushed her in front of him. Dayna and Cally followed behind them while Tarrant scouted ahead.

#

Their escape path took them into the same unused section of the base he had been imprisoned in and Avon grew uneasy.

"If this is some trick, Servalan...." he warned.

The party rounded a corner then and saw Tarrant kneeling beside a body. He looked up at their approach. "It's Vila," Tarrant told them. "He's dead."

"Keep moving," Avon ordered.

"Why, Avon?" Servalan said, stopping. "Are you afraid they'll find out?"

"Find out what? What do you mean?" Tarrant snapped, picking up Miles' discarded weapon and getting to his feet.

Servalan turned around and looked at Avon. "Ask him," she purred in delight.

"Avon?" It was Cally and her eyes searched his face questioningly. //Who killed Vila?// her silent voice asked. The look in his eyes was enough of an answer.

"Shall I tell them then?" Servalan.

"Tell us what?" Tarrant demanded, looking from Servalan to Avon, then back again.

"Can't you guess, Tarrant?" Servalan said in surprise. "I should think it obvious. Avon killed Vila." And the silence which followed her words was everything she hoped it to be.

"He betrayed us," Avon told his companions, meeting their eyes levelly. "The meeting, the information on the base, everything--it was all a setup."

"It's easy for you to say that, Avon," Tarrant accused. "You're alive and Vila can't defend himself. How do we know you didn't arrange this?"

"If I had, Tarrant," Avon countered, "you would not be alive at this moment." His eyes flashed dangerously and the grip on his gun tightened.

"Stop it, both of you," Cally intervened. "This is not the time. We can discuss it later on the ship."

"If we get back to the ship," Dayna amended, coming up behind Servalan. "I think you've said quite enough, Servalan, now move." She shoved the woman on down the corridor. Tarrant glared at Avon, then followed her, Miles' gun held tightly in his hand.

Cally knelt down beside Miles' body. "I sensed that something was wrong when he came back up with Tarrant. But for him to betray us? Why did he do it, Avon? Why?" She looked up at Avon.

Avon shook his head staring down at the dead man's face. "I don't know, Cally," he answered softly.

Cally sighed and got to her feet. "We must go, Avon. The others are waiting." Avon lifted his eyes to hers and nodded slowly.

#

Twice they were challenged by guards, but each time with Servalan as their hostage, the party was allowed to pass. Then they walked through the main gate and out of the compound to the cover of a wooded area.

Avon signalled them to stop. "We should be beyond the shield now," he announced and started to call Orac when Servalan interrupted him.

"All right, Avon, I've kept my part of the bargain. You and your companions are safe," she announced. "What happens now?"

Dayna's answer was not long in coming. "I say we kill her."

"That is what you always say," Tarrant commented with a slight smile. He did not look at Avon but rather at Cally. "What do you think we should do with her, Cally?"

"The decision is not mine nor yours to make, Tarrant," Cally stated firmly. "It is Avon's."

"Is it?" Tarrant challenged. He looked at Avon coldly and said, "All right, Avon. What do you want to do with her?"

Avon did not look at any of them. He just said, "She's of no further use. Leave her here."

"Alive?" Dayna could not believe it.

"Preferably," came his reply.

"But why?" the girl asked

"Why?" Avon echoed. He suddenly felt very tired and wanted nothing more than to get back to the ship and leave this planet far behind.

"Because we know her, Dayna," Cally answered for him. "We know how she thinks. Blake could have killed Travis not once but many times but he didn't."

"Blake is not here," Tarrant pointed out.

Avon looked at him grimly. "No, but I am," he snapped. "And I say we leave her here."

Dayna glanced first at Servalan, then at Avon. "All right," she agreed reluctantly. "But I'm tying her up first." She searched the underbrush and came up with two strong vines which would serve as satisfactory bindings.

Tying her up was a bit of an understatement. Dayna made sure the vines came very close to cutting off Servalan's circulation. Then the girl tore a piece off of the bottom of Servalan's dress and stuffed it into her mouth to prevent her crying out. The woman glared at her angrily.

"That will keep you occupied for a while," Dayna chuckled. She cupped Servalan's chin in her hand and smiled coldly. "Make no mistake, Servalan, next time, I will kill you. With or without Avon's approval."

"Ready?" Tarrant called to her.

"Ready," the girl returned and moved to stand beside her companions.

"All right, Orac," Avon announced wearily. "Bring us up."

#

As the group materialised on board, they were anything but prepared for the sight which greeted their eyes.

"Uh...what's the matter?" cried Vila in a frightened voice, then ducked behind the teleport console as first Avon's, then Tarrant's gun came to bear on him.

"You tell us," Tarrant demanded, glancing sideways at Avon. The computer expert had gone quite pale. "Step from behind there."

"I...I don't understand," Vila stammered as he complied.

"Neither do we," Tarrant continued, eyeing the other man's Federation garb. "Especially since we just left your body down there."

"Body?" Vila repeated in a shaky voice. The thief sank down on the teleport couch and closed his eyes. "Then he's finally dead."

"Who's finally dead?" Cally asked, her eyes looking worriedly at Avon who seemed not to have moved an inch since they materialised on board.

Vila answered without opening his eyes. "I told him it was stupid, but he wouldn't listen. He thought he could do anything." The thief opened his eyes and looked at his companions. "Did one of you...." The moment the words left his mouth, Vila knew. The others' nervous glances at Avon and the way Avon was staring at him said more than anyone could.

Avon started as from a daze, lowered his weapon, removed his bracelet and walked quickly into the corridor. Cally looked at her companions, then followed him.

"Suppose you tell us about it," Tarrant advised, but he kept his gun in his hand.

Vila didn't answer at first. He was still wondering about Avon when Cally came back. "Is he all right?"

Cally regarded him curiously a moment before answering. "Yes. He just went to his cabin...to rest." But something in her eyes told Vila that all was not well.

Dayna moved up beside Vila. "I believe you were going to explain?" she prompted.

Vila sighed. "I suppose I should, shouldn't I? First off, though, can we get out of here? Being this close to Servalan makes me nervous."

"Now that's the first sensible thing I've heard all day," Tarrant said, and passed his weapon over to Dayna. The girl took it wordlessly and the pilot headed for the flight deck. Vila and Cally followed, with Dayna bringing up the rear, the gun in her hand pointed squarely at Vila's back the entire time.

#

Two hours later, they knew all there was to know about Miles and his little scheme.

"Once I was sure the camera was off, I went to work on the door. It took me nearly an hour to get it open. Had nothing more to work with than my fingernails." Vila held up his hands and there were a few broken nails to justify his story.

"But how did you get back to the ship?" Dayna asked. The girl was seated across from Vila. Her weapon lay in her lap, a hand casually lying on top of it.

"Once I located my bracelet and that was no easy matter, let me tell you. I might not have found it at all except I overheard a guard talking to Miles asking if he could have it for a souvenir. Fortunately for me, Miles gave it to him."

Vila shook his head in wonder. "It's strange, come to think of it, him doing that. Miles never gave anyone anything...not unless it would benefit him. Strange. Anyway, I followed the guard and knocked him out, took my bracelet and teleported up." He wondered at his companions' expressions. "Why?"

"Because we tried teleporting and it didn't work," Tarrant told him.

"Vila," Cally queried. "How long have you been on board?"

"I got here just a few minutes before you called in," he advised.

"You say there was a camera in your cell," Tarrant questioned. "Which section of the complex were you taken to?"

The thief looked at him blankly and scratched his head. "Uh...I don't know. When they brought me in, I was out cold."

"There was no such device in our cell, Tarrant," Cally pointed out. "He must have been in another part of the base, one which was not shielded."

"That's one possibility, Cally," Tarrant mused, studying Vila. "Or else the dead man on the planet really was Vila and this is a Federation spy they've substituted in his place."

The thief stared at his companions in disbelief. "I'm not a Federation spy! I've explained what happened. Why won't you believe me?"

"We might," Dayna remarked quietly. "If we could be sure you were telling us the truth."

"What do I have to do to prove it?" Vila cried out.

Tarrant's expression grew thoughtful for a moment. "Avon might know a way." He winced as Dayna pinched him on the arm.

"He's not in the mood to see anyone," she warned the pilot.

"Why?" Vila inquired innocently.

"I should think that obvious, Vila." Dayna stared at him a moment, then added: "That is, if you are Vila."

"Damn it, Dayna, I am Vila." The thief turned pleading eyes to Cally. "You know who I am, don't you, Cally?"

The Auron gazed at him for a moment, then sighed. "I...am not sure."

"This is marvelous," Vila erupted, jumping to his feet. "I thought once I made it back here, my problems would be over. Why don't you just shove me out an airlock then? That would solve all of your problems, wouldn't it?"

"He has a point," Tarrant admitted, standing up. Vila took a step away from the pilot in fear.

"He was only joking, Vila," Dayna laughed. "Look at him, Tarrant, you've got him shaking in his boots now."

The thief was trembling, his eyes wide in alarm. //Vila.// The call brought his frightened face around to look at Cally. //Perhaps if you could tell us something which only we here would know about. Maybe that would convince us.//

"Of course, Cally, you're right."

"I've a feeling we missed out on something, Tarrant," Dayna accused.

"Ask me something, one of you," Vila begged. "Something only we would know. That'll prove I'm Vila."

"That won't be necessary," Tarrant conceded with a grin. "There's not two people in the Universe who can beg and plead like you, Vila."

"I don't know if I like that," Vila mumbled, sitting back down. "In fact, I'm sure I don't."

"There's always the airlock," Dayna offered.

"Dayna!" Vila wailed.

"We are all just happy you are alive and safe," Cally murmured softly and she hugged him.

"Not as happy as I am," Vila agreed with a smile. "I think this calls for a drink." He stood up and looked at his companions. "Anyone care to join me?"

"No thanks," Dayna replied, warily. "I still remember the last one you made for me."

Vila laughed. "Tarrant? Cally?"

"Thank you, no," Tarrant replied. "I'm supposed to be on watch, you know."

"I will pass this time, too," Cally added with a gentle smile.

"All right then, see you later." The thief scampered up the steps and into the corridor, humming contentedly to himself.

#

Vila went to his cabin, took a shower and changed his clothes. But before he could settle down to that drink there was something he had to do. Something that simply could not be put off, no matter how much he wished it could. He looked at his kit hesitantly, then picked it up and walked out of the cabin.

The thief arrived before Avon's door and steadied himself. Perhaps he should wait and... No. Avon was obviously upset, blaming himself for Miles' death. Vila had to explain, he had to stop Avon from feeling the guilt which he had seen so clearly in the other man's face at the teleport. Vila took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked a little harder. Still nothing. He touched the door sensor and nothing happened. The door was locked.

"Oh well," Vila sighed. "I didn't expect it would be easy." He opened his kit and removed a probe. In two seconds, the door lock clicked open.

Vila replaced the probe and pushed the kit aside. He opened the door and peered inside.

The light was set at its lowest level. Avon lay on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't seem to notice Vila until he was standing directly beside the bunk. Avon glanced at him briefly, then went back to his study of the ceiling.

"Avon," Vila began uncertainly. "I know you feel bad about what happened down there, but...."

"Go away," Avon warned, but he didn't look at Vila when he spoke.

"I won't go away," Vila protested. "Not until I'm sure you understand."

"I understand all too well," came the harsh response. "I understand that I killed a man down there; killed him quite easily despite the fact he was your mirror image, and I didn't give a second thought about it."

"Knowing Miles, he probably didn't give you a chance," Vila argued. "Look, Avon, let me explain, will you? Please?"

"If you must," Avon answered wearily and closed his eyes.

Vila drew up a chair and sat down. 'Where to begin?' he wondered. Well, might as well start at the beginning.

"It's not easy being a Delta, Avon. Even that group has its classes and divisions. First off, there the Supervisors. People with above average intelligence, but not high enough to rate a Beta grade. Anyway, they're usually the go-betweens, the liaisons between the Deltas and the upper grades. Then come the Brutes. They're just that, all muscle and very little brain capacity. Gan told me he came from there but I don't think so. I've met a few Brutes in my day and Gan definitely was more intelligent than them. Come to think of it, he was a mite smarter than even the Supervisors... I wonder...

"The third group, well that's where I came from. They're governed mostly by the Guilds. You now what guilds are, don't you?" He paused a moment, then answered his own question. "Of course you do. Well, there are many among the Deltas; Builders Guild, Transport Guild and the like. But there are less well-known ones. Ones the other guilds refuse to believe exist." Vila smiled. "Like the Thieves Guild, which I belonged to, and the Assassins Guild."

"The latter being that to which your doppelganger undoubtedly belonged," Avon commented.

"I don't know what a doppel...dapple, whatever it was you said is, Avon," Vila continued. "But he wasn't that. Miles was my brother."

Avon's eyes flew open in shock. "Your brother?"

Vila nodded slowly. "And I want you to know, Avon, I'm sorry it was you who had to kill him. Not that he didn't deserve killing, mind you. When I think back to my childhood and the times he tried to knife me for some bauble I had picked up. Well, it was high time justice caught up with him."

"I am hardly 'justice,'" Avon retorted, but he seemed to relax a bit. Vila noticed and felt encouraged. He went on quickly. "Anyway, as I was saying, I had a natural knack for thievery. I used to come home from the streets with all sorts of things in my pockets. I didn't always remember where I got them either. Being a kid, I just picked up things here and there, you know what I mean." He waited, expecting Avon to agree. Then he sighed. "No, I guess you being an Alpha, you wouldn't. Well, anyway, I was apprenticed to the Thieves Guild right away. Miles was only a minute younger than I, but it seemed like there were centuries between us."

Vila shook his head in puzzlement. "He seemed to take delight in making others suffer. Thrived on it, in fact. I recall one incident in particular. I was about six at the time. There was a neighbor of ours who had this old grey and white cat. The poor thing never harmed anyone. One night I'd just got home from a day of educating, as my instructor called it, and I heard this horrible scream from next door. I ran over. Angie, that was the cat's name, was lying in the yard, her throat neatly slit from ear to ear. Then I remembered what I'd seen my brother doing. He'd been cleaning his knife, smiling." Vila shook his head again. "Miles was just no good."

"I tend to disagree," Avon said. Vila looked at him questioningly. "He managed to fool all of us and get on board Liberator. I'm surprised he didn't try to take over the ship himself."

"How could he do that?" Vila asked. "He might have been able to fake my voice enough to fool you and the others, Avon, but surely Zen would have known the difference in voice patterns if Miles tried to give him an order?"

Avon was surprised by Vila's astuteness, but carefully kept from showing it. "True," he answered.

Vila smiled, then yawned. "Sorry," he apologised. "I guess I'd better get some sleep.

"With all that you acquire on deck watch?" Avon inquired, cocking an eyebrow curiously.

Vila stood up and frowned. "Good night, Avon!" he snapped and stomped to the door.

"Good night...Vila," Avon replied and a smile crossed his lips as he closed his eyes.

#

Vila sighed in relief as the door closed behind him. Avon would be all right now that he knew about Miles. He wouldn't blame himself any more. He bent down to pick up his kit and nearly jumped ten feet when Cally came up quietly behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Is he all right?"

"Oh, you gave me such a start," Vila cried leaning against the bulkhead and putting a hand to his heart. "Don't do that ever again, huh, Cally?"

"If I were ever in doubt, that just proved he's Vila," Cally thought to herself with a smile. "I won't," she promised. "But is Avon all right?"

Vila nodded, smiling. "He'll be right as rain after some sleep, probably ordering me about and making me do all kinds of dangerous things." He yawned again. "Think I'll turn in now. Night!"

"Good night, Vila," she called after him.

But Vila didn't go straight to his cabin. Instead, he went to the rest room and made himself that drink. He took a swallow, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, remembering another time and another place.

"You'll never amount to anything, you little sniveler," the youth taunted.

"Go away and leave me alone, Miles," his companion murmured fearfully.

"I'm not leaving until you give it to me," Miles shot back and produced a knife which he flashed his brother's face. "Give it to me, Vila, or I'll take it from you."

"Here," Vila cried and threw a shiny object in the dirt at his brother's feet.

"Hah!" Miles crowed, picking up his booty. "Vila, the coward. Vila, the fool."

"You mean you wouldn't have hurt me?" Vila asked, his eyes flashing from the gleaming blade to his brother's face.

Miles eyed Vila coldly. "What do you think?" came his reply. Then he laughed again and ran away leaving Vila standing alone in the street, confused and frightened. That had been the last time he had seen Miles...until today.

Vila opened his eyes, shuddered and took another swallow from his glass. Miles had answered him at last.


End file.
